Chapter 67

Sorrys

Gil hadn't slept a wink, even long after having settled in his bed beside Sara, who was slumbering peacefully in those ridiculous penguin pajamas of hers. Sleep refused to come to him, and he cursed that he could feel so physically and emotionally tired and yet still feel so fully awake that his mind was still a whirring chaos of thought, confusion and hurt from the past few days.

Even curling around Sara's back, and feel the comfort of having her there with him, against him, being able to feel her heart against his chest did nothing to soothe or lull him into sleep. Sara would just shift, roll halfway on her side, and absently swat him away in her sleep, not comfortable with him lying against her in this fashion at all.

Accepting defeat, he kissed her forehead tenderly, and climbed out of bed, he pulled on some jogging pants - he might have been comfortable enough to sleep naked aside Sara but he was still not comfortable enough to roam around his own house in the same peculiar fashion.

He wandered aimlessly throughout his house, picking up various books he hadn't read in years and flicking through them half heartedly, not being able to focus properly on the words. Once upon a time, long before Sara had come into his life, he'd have lost himself in such books - would be so completely consumed by those words that time would fly by and he'd find himself late for work.

But I don't have work today, he reminded himself. I have to be here for Sara. I have to make sure she's okay. We have to spend the day together and try to figure out what we can do about her problem.

He paced across the living room, every now and then taking a moment to glance out of the window. The early afternoon had bathed the street, kids were out playing on their bikes and skateboards. People were walking their dogs. Young married couples walked by holding hands.

It was the first time he'd truly found himself envying everyone on that street. Everyone who had a full life that wasn't completely consumed by work. Everyone who had gone to the next step. Everyone who'd been married, had children. He supposed if he'd been as idealistic as those couples who walked by, he'd have been married by now, possibly have a kid off to college, maybe even a grandkid.

Life had never felt so empty as it had right at that moment as he stood there watching life pass him by. Here he was, a man of almost fifty standing at a window like some perverted spectator begrudging a normalcy that he was afraid he himself might never obtain.

Don't be stupid, Gil. Your life is just as normal…just as fulfilling. You're not single anymore…you have Sara now. Before Sara there was no choice but to live and feel alone…now you're not limited.

Gil wandered back to the bedroom to check on Sara. Sara slept ever soundly, her hair splayed out on the pillow like silk the colour of chocolate. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes closed lightly. Her lips parted ever so slightly. He pecked those lips softly, he had to, just to remind himself she was still there, still real, and that having her there wasn't some kind of dream he was about to wake up from.

Sleepily, she murmured his name, and rolled over facing away from him, exhausted. He had to smile at this, smile at the absurd pattern on her pajamas, smile because even though she'd just turned her back on him, she was still in his bed.

He left the bedroom again. In the kitchen he made himself a sandwich, which he only took two bites of before discarding. He checked his answering machine. Not one single message. He half expected to hear Catherine's voice on the phone, admitting how childish this was that they were still not talking. He wanted to hear it, even tried willing the phone to ring, but that didn't work.

What would you say once she did call? You were harsh…she didn't deserve that…Catherine is an amazing person, with such spirit and vitality, and you bruised her with your cold words. How could I have cruelly called her a coked up stripper? That's just not like me. She's right, I have changed. I thought I was changing for the better, but when it comes to hurting my friends, obviously I was wrong.

Gil reached out for the phone, but ended up not picking it up. What would you say if you call her right now? Sorry just doesn't cut it, Gil. Sorry isn't good enough.

He sat on the floor for some minutes in silence by the phone, trying to eloquently piece together some sentences that would get across how sorry he was. He knew so many rather poetic quotes regarding friendship, but Catherine wasn't likely to be interested any of them. The only approach Gil knew Catherine was likely to take was the direct approach.

Gil could imagine what he thought she would say. Stop hiding behind your pretty words and phrases. Take the bull by the balls, swallow your pride and just say 'sorry'. And not just sorry, but admit you were wrong, admit you're an idiot, admit you were cruel, and that you could never be sorry enough.

Gil picked up the receiver and began to dial, but before he got to the last three digits, he hung up. No, that wasn't going to work. Catherine would still be too mad over this – and mad that once again he was taking time off to be with Sara rather than facing up to his responsibilities.

SO what if I am? He wondered. Since when do I ever take personal time off for anything other than a cockroach race? Since when do I ever need personal time off at all? She said she was happy for me…if she was truly happy for me…then she'd be fine with this.

He sighed to himself. Lets face it, Gil. This isn't about her not being happy for you, it's about the increase in her workload. But hell, if she ever wants to be a supervisor some day she's going to have to get used to excessive workloads. This is experience for her, she needs to understand that.

Gil thought once again about calling, making up some excuse about how much he trusts her to take over for him, and that he was priming her for taking over if he should intend to leave at any point. But even to himself these words sounded like the complete lies they were. He chided himself for thinking he could even lie to her. She was too perceptive to fall for it.

Okay, fine, so…I just pick up the phone and say 'Cath, don't hang up, I need to talk. I just want to say I'm sorry. I feel so terrible about what I said. I feel like crap. I've never thought such things about you…and I never will. You're so much better than that…'

Gil rolled his eyes at himself, even in his head it sounded more phony than the lies he'd thought of telling her. But it was all he had. Catherine liked the direct approach, he had to be direct. He had to just blurt out what he felt, without mincing words, without putting it into poetic and meaningful phrases

He took hold of the receiver and lifted it, about to hit the call button that would allow him to dial out. Before he had the chance the phone rang. It rang so loudly that his heart jumped in his chest, startling him. He dropped the phone and it landed on the tiles with a deafening clatter.

Reprimanding himself for being scared of a phone, he picked it up, and answered. "Hello…?". He expected to hear Catherine's sharp voice telling him that they had gone long enough being childish and that the fight was over. What he hadn't expected was for the phone call to be family related.

For the next few moments, his world seemed to crumble round him, the news so shocking that it send him spiraling into a black abyss of emotion. He'd thought he'd been emotionally disturbed by what Sara had told him only days ago. After he'd heard this from Sara, he'd been convinced that things could only get better. This morning he'd been proven wrong coming home to find Sara had been drinking.

Even then, he'd told himself that this had to have been as bad as things could get.

The phone call was from his uncle Herb. His mothers slightly younger brother, and his favourite uncle – although he'd not seen or heard from the man for many years now. Gil found himself actually glad to hear the voice of his uncle. He sat there for two seconds considering telling his uncle how great life was – of course leaving out the little snippets of sadness in between – and how he was in love finally.

"Gil, I have something to tell you…I just hope you're sitting down."

Gil heard the strain in his uncles good natured voice right away, and somehow, he knew even before his uncle had spoken what was wrong. If Gil had been Spider-man, his spider senses would have been tingling instead of his spine running cold and his heart threatening to come to a complete stop.

"What's wrong…?" Gil asked, although he didn't know why he asked. He already knew, somehow in his heart, in his very soul, he knew. He just didn't want to hear those words.

"Your mothers physical therapist arrived at the house just an hour ago..." Herb began, and there was emotion thick in his voice. "I'm really sorry, Gil…"

"Herb?" Gil asked, he could feel his heart beginning to break right there. If his heart was glass, he was almost convinced he could hear it shatter.

"Your mother passed away. I'm so sorry."

Ok, this was really difficult to write. Not in the way that I was blocked or didn't know what to write, but because my computer has broken down and I have to write this on Dadda's - his keyboard is like old type writer - you have to batter the keys to type anything and it takes alot longer. I've been at this chapter for two hours now.

I'm not going to add in the names of the people who reviewed because I'm on dadda's computer and his runs slow when more than one browser window is open (which I usually have open so I can get all the names of the reviewers). Once I get the issue resolved, I'll try to get you all mentioned.

Sorry I can't throw out as many chapters today as I normally would. I might be limited for the next few days...

Ash